Meridian 7: Fireflies 





Poetry Reading 


Design and photos: Karen Smith

Blooms  
China banned the letter N
so parts of me are disappeared

blooms swell between us
the red different each time

parts of me are disappeared
you scare me, so sue me

the red different each time
when we donít police

I scare you, so sue me
sometimes I forget my lines

when we donít police
blades open and open

sometimes I forget my lines
there where the empire cracks

blades open and open
who knew this was hunger

there where the empire cracks
China banned the letter N

who knew this was hunger
blooms swell across us








Divine 
Dragon flies in drag
over river spits,
mustard grasses,
tissue wings
zim hummering.
Their needled bodies
threaded beads, azure
hyphened by ebony
to the period of their
tails. Tumid eyes to tips
to eyes, waging circles
where another begins,
where mist and sigh,
early sky shaking its wings,
water below splitting,
spreading hemispheres
a slow spinning blue
mouths
consuming
tails
consuming
mouths.

(earlier version published Antigonish Review 151, Autumn 2007)




  |  related link
Rust 
Thorax of tractor, trailer aground.
Letting the metal go.

The gathering is shrinking. Soon
we forget to ask.

Old men idle over tinto and war.
A dyke gives way nail by nail.

It doesnít stop here, ever.
Through bulging sewers

and guttered debris,
the music snuck back,

slipped on a hot little dress.
What part of love is patience?

A blown-out, boarded-up
city stuffs its windows with toys.

The derelict car lot
polka-dotted.

Abandon as litter
or landscape?

Insides out
mustering red.



Published Halifax Poetry Series, Frog Hollow Press and FreeFall Magazine
2016


Next